


Why is everyone staring?

by JackOfAll



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, Hot Weather, Humor, Javert's Confused Boner, Jealous Javert, M/M, Sexual Frustration, Staring, Sweaty Valjean, Valjean is very strong, cats up trees, clueless valjean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfAll/pseuds/JackOfAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean kind of accidentally pole dances to save a cat. That's mostly it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [As Good As It Gets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/884378) by [cuphugaddict](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuphugaddict/pseuds/cuphugaddict). 



Inspector Javert had had a long and exhausting day. Having testified at court for over two hours at some-whining con’s (hopefully) final trial, he and his squad were driving back to the station, where Javert hoped for nothing more than to finish his damn paperwork and leave the damn station so he get back to his damn apartment and meet his damn boyfriend.

 

Well, maybe his boyfriend wasn’t damned. It was a matter still up for debate in the back of his mind. On one hand, he was a convicted felon; on the other he cared more for humanity and prayed more devoutly than anyone Javert had ever met. Also, he did that one thing with his tongue. Javert was still debating which side of purgatory that would place Valjean when the judgment day came.

 

The reason damnation was so strongly on the Inspector’s mind was less a product of the trial and more a product of the infernal heat of June in Paris. The courtroom was poorly ventilated and he could only hope that the financial powers that be had deigned to turn on the damn AC at the office.

 

As the police car carrying Javert, his partner, and three squashed junior officers passed the park, Javert felt a twinge of guilt. Not about the physical discomfort in the backseat as two small-but-not-slight women and one overly muscled man attempted to fit on uncomfortably hard seats.

 

It was just that Javert, as a senior officer, with a mildly injured arm took the passenger’s seat, while his uninjured partner was entrusted with driving. No, as Javert watched the drooping plants out the window, he thought of his poor boyfr- lov- neighbo- soulma- frien- Jean.

 

Jean was undoubtedly hard at work, tending to dehydrated flowers. As uncomfortable as Javert was, Jean was probably-

 

Oh God.

 

That can’t be…

 

Javert was saved the ignominy of screaming his sexual frustration, confusion, and protectiveness in front of three impressionable junior officers by Lara- or maybe Johanna- the brunette one, anyway.

 

“Sir!” There appears to be a disturbance in the park, perhaps we should investigate.”

 

“Quite right. Renoir, why don’t you park up ahead,” Javert chocked out. If anyone noticed he seemed a bit too interested in a random disturbance on the park, they didn’t give any indication. His voice could very easily be the result of dehydration. Nothing improper was suspected.

 

The five hurried over to where a large, boisterous crowd stood around a tall, thin, smooth tree. At the center of the crowed and the base of the tree, a small boy cried, holding the hand of a rather slack-jawed woman, presumably the boy’s mother.

 

A large gaggle of children who didn’t quite understand why everyone’s eyes were a bit glazed over were quick to inform the officers of the situation.

 

“There’s a cat-“

“His name’s Courfeyrac!”

“No that’s Jehan.”

“Jehan’s cat is Courfeyrac and they live-”

“The gardener is going to save Courfeyrac!”

“Courfeyrac ran from the dog right in front of my-”

“The dog was barking at Jehan,”

“I want Ice Cream!”

“I think the dog was barking at Courfeyrac”

“Some guy already caught the dog.”

“None of us could climb the tree, there’s no sideways branches and my mommy told me not to damage park property.”

“Courfeyrac ran up the tallest tree in the park, I wonder if-”

“I think that cat is stuck”

“The cat’s name is Courfeyrac, stupid!”

“The gardener came over as soon as Jehan started crying and promised to save Courfeyrac.”

“Is your badge real?”

“The gardener is real strong, cause he’s climbing the tree without any branches”

“The gardener looks kind of funny climbing like that”

“The gardener climbs like this girl in a movie my older brother once was watching last Saturday- he even sounds like the girl!”

 

“Thank you.” Renoir cut the kids off. “Now-“ Renoir purposely raised his voice to be overheard. “I don’t understand why this gardener needs such a large crowd to watch him do a good deed that apparently no one else was willing to do.”

 

Most of the adults in group wandered off, shamefaced and a bit embarrassed to be caught staring. Some bustled off with suitcases muttering excuses and some grabbed their children a bit to firmly, rushing of to god-know-where, pink-faced with embarrassment a bit of something else.

 

“That’s much better. I don’t think we’re needed here, so we should be on our way back to the station,” Renoir started

 

“Maybe we should wait…” the blond junior officer said weakly.

 

“Oh?" Renoir asked, totally unimpressed

 

“Well,” her colleagues came to back her up, “If he falls, we should be here to help him. Sir.” The brunette finished weekly.

 

Fortunately Leonard, or as he preferred in certain circles, Leonardo, came to back up Johanna and Lara with the perfect reasoning. “ It’s our duty to protect the commonwealth. Additionally, if he damages public property, we must apprehend him. Technically, one of us should be up there, assisting the needs of the younger community.”

 

Leonard was good with his mouth. He managed to logically explain all this without even slightly turning away from the tree.

 

“Duty. I see. Well, Javert, what do you think of our junior officers’ interpretations of our job? Javert? Javert!”

 

Counter to his usually keen attendance to the entire situation, Javert had stopped paying attention shortly after his suspicions that there was a cat stuck in tree were confirmed. He did have a damned good reason though.

 

Because of course there was be a cat stuck in that damned tree, and of course Jean Valjean had to save the poor little cat for the poor little boy.

 

And of course damn Jean Valjean didn’t give one damn thought to his damned appearance before climbing that damn damned tree of damnation.

 

When Javert had looked out the window with only the purest of thoughts for his sweltering, sweaty Jean, he hadn’t expected to see him.

 

Rather, Javert imagined Valjean dressed as he left the apartment, in a white T-shirt and lightweight drawstring shorts. Certainly, the T-Shirt was a little on the tight side. But that described nearly every shirt the broad-shouldered man wore.

 

Javert liked those broad-shoulders.

 

Those broad-shoulders that were currently without a shirt.

 

In the back of the disarrayed mind of the usually calm Inspector’s mind, some bit of sanity reasoned that it was a sweltering day, and Valjean did manual labor for a living. It made sense that he might discard his shirt in the interest of efficiency.

 

His naked back, while reasonably pleasant and unreasonably distracting, wasn’t what short-circuited out his mind and made him want to scream from the passenger’s seat earlier.

 

The rest of the image did that.


	2. Two

Javert was not an unintelligent man. He had to constantly learn new information and process it rapidly or he would be either dead, or worse, not an Inspector.

 

Since Cosette visited his office, Javert had learned to get along with coworkers without the (sole) use of fear. He had learned to talk, or at least grunt in a friendly manner when someone asked a question about his personal life. Eventually, he had begun to relax, skeptically accepting Valjean’s claim that people were asking in order to become friends, not to find blackmail material.

 

Javert kept the conversation on Cosette and her cat mostly, but did share enough (vauge) details about his boyfriend that people believed he existed.

 

Since becoming a grandparent to Louis the cat, (Cosette’s words, not his) Javert had (unfortunately) learned of the near-mystical capability of cats to climb unscalable obstacles and break things. Louis’s crowning achievement was to somehow tear one of the stars on Cosette’s ceiling and get stuck on the adhesive underside. In the middle of the room. Several feet from any furniture.

 

Javet had grimaced, bought an extra pack of stars, andremoved breakable objects from high places.

 

Since… _getting involved…_ with Jean, he had learned about being horny. And having a libido and inappropriate times. Despite being middle aged, it really hadn’t come up much, since during puberty he was so far in the closet he just thought that he hadn’t found the right girl to wank over since the room was so small and smelled of mothballs.

 

Javert blamed Jean. And thanked G-d for sound proofing and longcoats. And prayed that Cosette would decide that what she really wanted to be when she grew up was a nun, and they could just skip the talk thing.

 

Hmmm. Jean would be pleased with attempts to get Javert more into reliegion.

 

But keeping the cat in the bag and out of high places were preventative measures, and he didn’t have a long coat on because he wasn’t insaned, and Jean was hot.

 

No wait Javert meant Javert was hot. Damn it! It’s hot! Outside! Weather and heat and glistening sweat trickling from the juncture of Jean’s happy trail and dangerously loose pants

 

Splitting into two rivulets on either side of still rock solid abs,

 

Before hitting pecs obviously tanned and pumped from months of labor under the sun.

 

And then the rivulets in maddening slow motion slid into the shadow of those aforementioned muscles.

 

Reappearing – just as slowly when the streams met in the center, and with a slight hesitation proceeded to fall from center of his chest, following the line of the clavicle (what wouldn’t?) until it met the glorious outstretched shoulder muscles and oh god arms

 

Which were both straining to hold onto a rather surprised cat, who had most likely expected to plummet to its death from the top of the tallest and smoothest tree in Bois de Boulogne but had been of course been rescued by the daring catch of Saint Jean the arousing. Jean had been nearly at the top when the thin branch holding the less thin cat’s weight had snapped. Most would have called it an honest effort but damn Jean Valjean

               

Jean Valjean had instinctively wrapped his outrageously powerful calves (daaamnnn.) around the tree truunck and extended out horizontally to catch a avery lucky and stupid cat.

 

The wild thrust outwards and sudden increase in weight caused Jean to pivot on his thighs downwards in a somewhat controlled arc, slamming his back into the trunk just hard enough to knock the breath of him with a perfectly innocent groan.

 

Thank god for his damn calves which only allowed a slow slide of a few inches. Upside down. Glistening. Shirtless with loose pants obeyed the laws of gravity, not decency, pooling in the crotch just enough to reveal some very inner thigh. And, too the discerning viewer, a familiar bite mark on said very inner thigh.

 

After some amount of time (everyone was a bit dizzy, Valjean mostly from impacting the back of his head with a tree trunk), those calves tensed and holyfuckinggod levered the body, thighs, crotch, abs, pec, clavicle, shoulders, and cat until the blood could finally leave Jean’s head.

 

Blood had definitely left Javert’s head, as he hadn’t managed to form even a coherently friendly grunt in response to Renoir.

 

Oh look his back is back. Now the sweat can trickle from the mysteriously luscious head of hair

 

“Javert?”

 

to the nape of his neck

 

“Are you trying to joke, because you’re awful at that”

 

down the channel created along Jeans spine as he flexed, managing to hold onto the cat and the tree trunk.

 

“Maybe he’s trying to bond with us, ?” “Possible” replied the police officer with the short afro (he didn’t know hairstyles, ok?) who was either Johanna or Lara. She turned to the brunette, “what do you think Lara?” Oh good that clears that up

 

and the sweat was falling from his spine and disappearing into the damn sweatpants that were loosing their grip on everything just like

 

“JAVERT!”

 

This time Renoir’s shout was accompanied by a backhand slap to the face.

 

The sheer audacity managed to snap Javert’s eyes incredulously over to his partner in not crime (Javert could absolutely joke).

 

Johanna, Lara, and Leonard all took a step back. Renoir stood his ground.

 

Furiously Renoir shout-whispered (Cosette didn’t come up with term, but she did officially approve it)

 

“Seriously, Javert! Seriously!? Did your brain melt? Don’t answer that! Did you somehow forget that you are in a committed relationship with the father of an adorable child? A child who, if you emotionally damage by you _ogling_ some random incredibly sexy man in a park and compromising your relationship, will cry! And do you know what happens if Cosette cries? Don’t answer that! Half the police force, possibly myself included, several repeat drunk tank visitors, and Disney woodland animals… Bambi personally will show up to stare at you with disappoint while the rest of us BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF YOU!”

 

Javert didn’t have a response besides standing with his mouth open, letting the cold air out. Any words he could possible use to explain were hidden under a continuous mental stream of damndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamnamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamnamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamnamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamnamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamn.

 

Which probably wouldn’t help the situation.

 

Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> better late update than never? Thank you for the comments and kudos!


	3. Three

Fortunately at that moment, Valjean reached the bottom of the tree, inspiring a round of applause from the children who hadn’t been guilted away by Renoir’s scolding. Everyone turned from Javert to witness his quiet conversation with Jehan as he handed over the very hassled Courfeyrac.

 

With open wonder Jehan turned to the smallest and dirties of the assembled children.

“Look, Gavroche! He got Courfeyrac back just like he said he would”

 

The group fell momentarily quiet as Gavroche considered this.

 

Gavroche carefully squinted at Courfeyrac, Jehan the tree, and Valjean. Finally he turned to Valjean and with a grin proclaimed, “You’re alright, Jean!”

 

The children cheered. One of them, a brunette about 8 years of age poked his leg. Jean turned to look at her

 

“Yes, Eponine?” He asked kindly

 

After a momentary pause to gather her courage, she asked, “Do you think Cosette and Marius will let me play with them?”

 

He answered in the same kind voice as before, “As long as you ask nicely, and don’t kick dirt, I’m sure they will. She nodded and replied seriously, “Thank you Mr. Cosette’s Dad!” and ran to a playground in the distance, where two distinctive blond heads were sitting under a tree. An elderly man was sitting near by, either watching them, or asleep. It was hard to tell.

 

As she, and most of the other children began to scamper off, “Jean called out, don’t forget to drink water! It’s hitting 35 today!”

 

“Don’t forget to drink water; it’s over 35 today!

 

Slowly the three junior and one senior officer turned to face him.

 

Johanna raised both eyebrows, “Did she say Mr. _Cosette’_ s Dad?

 

“Yes, but you can call me Jean,” unexpectedly close voice responded.

 

The four officers turned back to face the same direction as Javert.

 

“Jean,” Leonard managed to get out, “as in…” He just trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Javert

 

Jean unscrewed a water bottle and tilted his head back. His Adam apple bobbed. There was literally steam rising from chest. Javert had to get out of here while he still could walk.

 

“Well,” Javert croaked, speaking for the first time since arriving at the park. Got to get back to the station. Good seeing you. Gazpacho for dinner?”

 

“Oh, Gazpacho sounds good,” Valjean smiled, “Why-“

 

“Gazpacho it is!” Javert interrupted.

 

He set a brisk pace during the car, unsurprised when he heard several feet instinctively following him. He got in, scorching his hand on the seat belt buckle on the passenger side.

 

The car ride was spent in contemplative silence.

 

Javert got numerous contemplative looks at the office over the next few months, probably based on the rumors of his secret fortune or 12 inch dick or devil deal or whatever. Javert headed off discussion by inviting people over for Gazpacho.

 

The truth about Javert's boyfriend finally came out several months later, at annual reviews and reports.

 

When the topic of the annual police calendar come around, Javert’s precinct unanimously votes to allow the inclusion of romantic partners.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this is my first foray into the terrifying world of fanfiction writing. I've spent long enough awkwardly reading, following blogs, and clicking through fanart without doing anything. Seriously, I've been reading for years and been to shy to even make an account. So, yesterday I registered for an account, and today I posted my first ever fanfiction. The rest is written... in my head. So it should be somewhere you can see it soon enough. I've never fully gotten the rating system, so let me know if I should change this.
> 
> Yours Truly,
> 
> JackofAll


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